


nothing but metaphysics

by birdbox (Bella_Barbaric)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, F/M, just in that hook has fallen through a portal and ended up in NYC, sort of, vague vague enchanted!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Barbaric/pseuds/birdbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Guy's been brought in after a member of the public reported him for open carry of an offensive weapon.”</p>
<p>“What weapon?”</p>
<p>“That's the weird part.” Anna throws an evidence bag on Emma's desk with a hook -yes, a hook- in it. “The guy claims he's 'Captain Hook'.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing but metaphysics

**Author's Note:**

> Emma is a police officer in the NYPD and actual Captain Hook shows up.
> 
> disclaimer: I know nothing about NYC law enforcement or laws, okay? I’m doing this from google searches and nothing else :)

“Hey, Emma, got a weird one for you!” her colleague, Anna, says with an amused grin.

Emma swings around on her chair, blowing a raspberry. “You know how I love the weird ones.”

“Hey, it's what you sign up for when you're a probie—the eccentrics of the city get dumped on you!” Anna laughs and Emma rolls her eyes. “Guy's been brought in after a member of the public reported him for open carry of an offensive weapon.”

“What weapon?”

“That's the weird part.” Anna throws an evidence bag on Emma's desk with a hook -yes, a _hook-_ in it. “The guy claims he's 'Captain Hook'.”

Emma picks up the hook and it's surprisingly large and weighty, with a sharp point that threatens to break through the polythene bag. No wonder someone reported it.“As in _the_ Captain Hook? As in Peter Pan villain Captain Hook?” Emma asks incredulously.

“Oh, yeah,” Anna says with the amused resignation of someone who's been on the job since Emma was listening to the Spice Girls and Nirvana on her cassette tapes. “Just wait until you see what he's wearing.”

-X-

All leather is what he's wearing. Leather pants, leather vest, long-ass leather coat. His shirt wasn't leather but seemingly to make up for it, the shirt buttons are undone so far down his torso that he might as well not be wearing it at all. If nothing else, he certainly looks the part of a swashbuckling pirate, though it's not necessarily the Captain Hook get up she'd had in mind given the absence of a waxed moustache and perm. Emma can't deny its quality though, whatever fancy dress shop he got it from ought to be commended on their attention to detail.

He looks up when she enters the holding room, a genial smile on his face. “I presume you've come to tell me I'm free to go, officer.” He's not from around here anyway--that's definitely a smooth British accent.

Emma usually pretty stoic when interrogating suspect but she snorts on instinct at the certainty in his voice, and sits across from him. “You should be so lucky. Open view carry of a bladed article can get you up to fifteen days in jail, buddy.”

'Hook' leans forward, suddenly less interested in his freedom and more interested in her. “What's your name then, love?” Emma can't help but note the guy is a lot more attractive than any Captain Hook she's ever seen: a shock of dark hair, just the right amount of scruff over his jaw and forget-me-not blue eyes framed with... eyeliner? The trouble is, he also seems to _know_ he's attractive.

“You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine,” Emma bargains.

He chuckles, resting his chin on his hand. “That's all right, I don't need you to share, Swan. You're something of an open book. And even if you weren't,”- he looks in her eyes, and mouths with a grin- “Your name is written on your shirt.”

_Damn,_ Emma thinks, _foiled by the name badge._ She tries to make it look like she'd remembered that all along and moved the topic away from her. “You're getting no closer to freedom while you don't tell me your real name, you know. We don't seem to have a James Hook on file, I'm afraid,” Emma says sardonically

“James Hook?” he says, looking at her like he _wasn't_ the one dressed like a pirate claiming he was Captain Hook. “Who's James Hook when he's at home?”

“Captain Hook's name,” Emma clarifies, confused—surely an enthusiast such as himself should know that? “In _Peter Pan_?”

The guy has unexpected reaction to the mention of the boy who never grew up, his fist clenches and his face twists in real disgust. “Pan is nothing but a nasty little demon-”

He looks like he's about to launch into a rant and Emma really, really doesn't have the time to get into a metaphysical discussion about who the 'real' villain of _Peter Pan_ is with some overzealous cosplayer so she cuts him off. “Okay, you know what? Never mind. Just tell me your actual, real name, as in the one your parents gave you.”

“Killian Jones, at your service.” He bows his head and extends his hand like he's in a regency novel.

“There, wasn't so hard, was it?” Emma murmurs mainly to herself, scribbling it down in her notepad. “You got any ID, Mr Jones?” Emma looks up at his silence and sees his confusion. “Driver's license, passport, birth certificate, anything along those lines.”

“Well, Officer Swan, since I only know what one of those things is and if I ever had one it would have almost certainly been lost in the last 300 odd years: the answer is no.”

Emma just stares for a while, because really, there is no good answer to that.

“Jesus, I am not paid enough for this.”

-X-

“Emma, before you leave you can go tell our friend the Captain he's free to go,” Anna says.

Emma turns on her heel, her scarf half wrapped around her neck. “What?”

“He's free to go. There's no 'Killian Jones' on file, I can't find anything on him—there's no address, no social security, no nothing. I'm guessing it's a computer glitch but there's no way we can move forward on this. Have to release him”

Emma frowned. Computer glitches had never done that before, but not finding him anywhere was even more unusual. Emma heads down to the holding cell and sees him pacing slowly in there through the hatch. Killian smiles like the sun when she opens the door and walks in. “Swan,” he says with more familiarity than he should legitimately have, smirking in that way that's she's already mentally associating with him. “Did you not get enough of me earlier?”

“I got plenty, don't worry. You'll be glad to know this time _I am_ here to tell you you're free to go. No charge.” She passes him the evidence bag that had his meagre personal effects in which were mostly old-fashioned coins like galleons. He really went all out in the pirate persona, Emma thinks.

“My hook?” he asks hopefully.

Emma laughs. “If I gave you that back, I'd have to arrest again as soon as we get outside.”

“I wouldn't mind so much, Swan,” Killian steps into her personal space and strangely, Emma doesn't have the immediate urge to move away. He locks eyes with her. “As long you're the one putting the handcuffs on me this time.”

His soft voice drips in sin and Emma's a little spellbound for a second, until she remembers where she is and finally experiences the urge to move away--which she does. “I'll show you out, Mr Jones.”

He follows her through the precinct, garnering more than a few stares at his ridiculous attire which he either doesn't notice or artfully ignores. Emma almost envies his unending confidence, the way he can strut about like he owned the place. Once they're outside, Emma pulls her coat closer around her against the cold and wonders how he doesn't feel it with that shirt unbuttoned all the way down. An errant thought of a way to keep them both warm appears in her head which she bats away, chastising herself. She rationalises that it's because he's disgustingly attractive and a shameless flirt. But then he's either delusional or a seriously committed method actor because her lie detector didn't go off once whilst he professed to be Captain Hook. It's not her job to find out which one it is, even if she's curious. Work stays at work--she's got a kid to get home to.

“I don't know your first name,” he muses suddenly as they stand in the light of the precinct. “I do believe we had a deal, Swan: you know mine, I get to know yours, remember?”

She smiles.“True. It's Emma.”

“Emma Swan,” he repeats thoughtfully, seeming to be cataloguing her face which makes her vaguely uncomfortable.

“Well, till we meet again, Captain,” she says to end their conversation. Emma puts two fingers to her forehead in a small salute. Killian catches her hand before she can replace it in her pocket and kisses her knuckles, holding her stunned gaze. It occurs to her that if any of her colleagues caught her schmoozing with a former suspect she might be in some deep shit. She'd only graduated the academy nine months ago and being at the bottom of the food chain, they'd have no qualms in getting rid of her.

“Goodbye, Lady Swan,” he says reverently. He never lets up on the archaic-isms. “It was a pleasure.”

She nods at him a final time before walking away, feeling strangely guilty about leaving him. She checks her phone to find a text from Henry, informing her that he's going back to Avery's for a sleepover tonight and that he'd be back tomorrow some time. It's Friday therefore not a school night so Emma doesn't mind, and texts him back to have fun and to not do anything she wouldn't do.

Well, that frees up her evening anyway. Emma looks back over her shoulder, and sees Killian is still standing outside the precinct. He looks overwhelmed by everything, looking around like he didn't know where to go from here. Most of all, he looks absolutely lost, and Emma realises that the bravado he put on for her might be something other than what it is on the surface. Like, fear he didn't want to admit to. Whoever he was and however he got here, he looked like he needed someone's help in getting...wherever he considered to be home. Emma could empathesise with that. She's never been one to walk by if someone needed a kind gesture.

_I must be completely mad,_ Emma thinks, walking back to him.

“Hey,” Emma calls out and he turns, masking his feelings with a grin. “You wanna go get some food?”

His grin gets wider. “Swan, I thought you'd never ask.”

 


End file.
